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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549505">Spoiling the Bunch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty'>its_mike_kapufty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rhett &amp; Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Apples, Arguing, M/M, Mischief, Play Fighting, grumpy boyfriends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:15:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link just wanted to go pick apples, but the longer they're at the orchard, it seems like all Rhett wants to pick is a fight.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Ficlets [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Spoiling the Bunch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the one-word prompt "apple."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Y’ever think about what an easy business model this is?”</p><p>Link rotates the granny smith in one hand and inspects it for marks and abrasions before plucking it from the bough and neatly placing it in the wicker basket on his arm. “How’s that, Rhett?”</p><p>“I mean… it’s literally just <em>owning trees.” </em>The autumnal breeze whips his hair and flannel collar as he gets that far off look in his eye–the one that says he’s hit bedrock of thought–that what he’s insinuating has never been uttered before in the history of mankind. “All you do is have property with apple trees on it, and they bloom naturally, and if your place looks nice enough, y’can charge people to come out and pick fruit. There’s no expenses.”</p><p>“Well, <em>that’s </em>a lie,” Link mumbles, feet loud in the withered grass as he pads over. Folks are around, but he sets his sights on his best friend underneath a tree marked <em>Gala </em>with a tied-on sign<em>. </em>Rhett looks good framed by leaves and bursts of yellow and vibrant red. Lucky for him, since he’s too tall to be viewed any other way here. “They’ve still got maintenance. And they gotta worry about people coming in and damaging the trees, or whatever, on rare occasions. Like that time in high school, where that cow got loose and destroyed Mister Buckley’s corn maze right before Halloween?”</p><p>“Still. People pay <em>you </em>for <em>them </em>to do all the legwork.” Rhett waggles his eyebrows with a small smirk, and Link rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Not to mention grounds-keeping,” Link adds, but the point is more for himself. He knows Rhett won’t come off it. “Look.” With a stuttering point Link showcases the various apples strewn about the ground–ones that have either fallen from trees of their own frailty or ones picked prematurely by wandering, inconsiderate hands. “I bet they gotta pick-up every single night to keep this place lookin’ good.”</p><p>Rhett stoops and nabs up a discarded apple, rolling it in his hand to inspect it. Sure enough, it’s bruised… though that might be from its impact with the ground. “Hope they donate ‘em, somehow. Put ‘em to good use.”</p><p>“I’m sure they do.” Link plucks the thing from Rhett’s hand, nabbing his attention in the process. “You really gotta, like–<em>chew apart </em>every little thing we do, don’t ya? Can’t just… <em>do </em>something, and be in the moment. We’re apple pickin’, man. It’s a beautiful day. Stop reading into everything.” His gaze drifts away from Link’s in a sweep that says <em>quit naggin’ me.</em></p><p>“This was your idea, man.”</p><p>“Yeah. So I wish you’d just enjoy bein’ here, Rhett.”</p><p>“What’re we even gonna do with these, huh?” he asks impatiently, tipping their basket to check the yield. Four apples thus far–green, red, yellow, and orange. “Last I checked, different types are good for different uses. Some of these might be gross raw. We can’t even just <em>eat ‘em.”</em></p><p>So he’s just going to be difficult, today. That’s fine. Link can be difficult too. </p><p>“You know what, Rhett? Nevermind. Let’s just leave.” Link drops the bruised apple to the ground, trying not to let how irritated he is soak into his words as he starts for the orchard’s farm house. “I’ll take the basket back, and we can go home, and–y’know, <em>screw me </em>for ever trying to do something new, right? You win.” </p><p>Whoops. So much for neutrality.</p><p>Link’s sure he’s left Rhett speechless and immobile–pacing off and abandoning him like the jerk he is–when it feels like a baseball hits his back, right between his shoulder blades. And <em>gosh, </em>does it smart, even through denim. Ready to tear him a new one, Link spins around and feels the anger on his lips die when Rhett’s standing there with a grin so guilty and goofy that Link’s transported back to their childhood.</p><p>Rhett’s fingers twitch as he watches Link. Smile grows with each passing second, and Link’s sure it mirrors his own.</p><p>“Oh,” he nods, setting their basket down below the nearest tree in exchange for a particularly rotten Honeycrisp. “Oh, okay. Let’s do this then, McLaughlin.”</p>
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